Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Israel and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lee Hazlewood to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Agent Orange,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
Rufus Thomas,
Can,
The Fall,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Darondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boogie Down Productions,
ABC,
Whodini,
Khruangbin,
Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
The Vogues,
Ultravox,
Idris Muhammad,
Delon & Dalcan,
Young Marble Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
Tres Demented,
The Barracudas,
Deepchord,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
Fela Kuti,
Liliput,
Symarip,
Marvin Gaye,
Wasted Youth,
Pagans,
Vainqueur,
Marc Almond,
Basic Channel,
A Certain Ratio,
Von Mondo,
The Stooges,
Peter and Kerry,
The Leaves,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
One Last Wish,
Grauzone,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Martian,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers,
Cheater Slicks,
Hashim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeru the Damaja,
Infiniti,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.